


Tomorrow Never Dies

by TruebornAlpha



Series: Spy vs Spy [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Assassins & Hitmen, Clubbing, Established Scott McCall/Stiles Stilinski, Hacker Stiles Stilinski, M/M, Nerds in Love, Spies, Spies & Secret Agents, Spy Scott, keeping secrets
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-03
Updated: 2016-03-03
Packaged: 2018-05-24 11:41:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6152542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TruebornAlpha/pseuds/TruebornAlpha
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Scott was just a normal grad student with a normal life and a (semi) normal boyfriend, but not even Stiles knows that a monster lurks behind Scott's bright smile. Trained as a spy and a killer, posing as the gentle Scott McCall is the perfect cover story and using Stiles just helps sell his lies. His latest mission involves protecting a sleezy paparazzi who got his hands on some dangerous information from an enemy who wants them all dead.</p><p>Or, that Sciles Spy AU!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tomorrow Never Dies

The halls were pristine with white tiled floors and bare walls. The walls hummed with hidden electronics as Scott stalked towards the office at the end, passing glass paneled rooms where staff hunched over computers and engineering labs where even the specially designed sound dampening walls didn’t quite muffle the occasional explosion.

Haletech was an industry leader in security, both virtual and physical. They were a small and intensely private firm contracted out to only the most select clients, but that only scratched the surface. There was a bloodier story beneath the pure white and digital sterility. Information was power and there was nothing neat or clean about power.

Haletech dominated the field of espionage. Without a single government backing them, they were free to sell their secrets to the highest bidders. Their private armies backed warlords and dictators, their cyber crew tracked corporate secrets and broke into national security databases. It was a place that pulled the strings, doling out influence for money and watching the world dance.

Scott moved like a predator, completely at home.

“Is he waiting for me?”

Theo fell into step beside Scott with a scowl. “He’s been waiting for you for a while. You’re late, Scott. Just because you’re his favorite doesn’t mean you should push him. You’re asking for trouble.”

“I like trouble.” He gave his companion a wink. “And I’m only nine minutes late. Relax, Theo. The pick up went off without a problem and I’m ready to get to work.”

He could read the scowl as it tried to twist Theo’s features. _The Chimera_ was normally so good at keeping his cards close to his chest, behind his disarming smile that he wielded with irrefutable charm. Scott was just better. It helped that he’d known Theo for a long time, far before they were even allowed in the field. Even then, Scott was never able to figure out if Theo wanted to beat him or control him. Their boss only encouraged the rivalry. A little in-house competition gave him the best results.

Scott stopped in his tracks, just as they got to the Alpha’s office, eyes widening in mock surprise as he turned to Theo. “Oh. You should probably wait out here. This is a private meeting.”

He closed the door behind him with a smile, completely certain that Theo would happily tear the world apart to be a fly on the wall. It was almost an intimidating idea. Certainly, Theo had the resources, but Scott was daring enough to take the risk.

Yet the moment he turned to face his employer, his entire countenance changed. Scott stood a little straighter, held his head a little higher. His smile didn’t fade, but its edges sharpened. Peter Hale was the name the Alpha used, but over the course of Scott’s career with Haletech, he’d been able to unearth over half a dozen different aliases. Not that it mattered. The Alpha liked it when Scott called him Peter.

“The mission went off without a hitch,” Scott said, placing his prize on Peter’s desk for his inspection. “There was no sign of enemy involvement. The seal remains intact.”

“I didn’t have any doubt.” The older man gently took the box, running his hands over the lock. Peter was more than his boss, he was as close to family as they could get in a place like this. His real father had been an informant working in the FBI and feeding information back to his superiors, but he was unpredictable and spiraled into drinking. Scott knew he’d been taken as leverage to try to keep his father in line, but alcohol had made him sloppy and his father had gotten caught. He’d died, though Scott was never sure of the details surrounding what had happened.

Peter had taken the boy on as his own, getting his claws in deep when Scott had been too young and afraid to resist. Rafael McCall’s mistake had paid off and the Alpha had fashioned his young protege into the deadliest weapon in his arsenal, training Scott how to use his gentle nature to disguise the sharp blades within. He’d had a natural charisma and charm, the luck of the draw, winning over trust and able to find people’s pain with ease. Peter twisted it all, turning the boy from healing hands to manipulating that pain for his own ends. Scott was his greatest masterpiece that would lead his organization someday, as long as he kept the leash tight around his boy’s neck.

Loyalty meant everything, but in an industry built on paranoia, Peter demanded nothing short of blind obedience to prove his control.

“I have another assignment for you that’s a better use for your abilities, but we need to talk first, Scott. Your current cover has given you a lot of flexibility and I can’t deny you’re doing good work, but Theo’s come to me with some concerns.”

“Theo spends so much time worrying about my assignments, it’s a wonder he manages to complete his.” Scott countered easily, not even slightly perturbed though he supposed Theo must have been, if he was going to approach Peter over their little competition. “I’ll be happy to let my results speak for themselves, boss. I’d be more concerned about Theo once he learns how to keep up with me.”

“ _Sit.”_

All at once, the fight went out of Scott, and he fell heavily into the plush seat that complimented Peter’s expensive desk so well. The glint in Peter’s eye was dangerous, sharpened by his pride. After all this time, it was so satisfying to know he still had his weapon in the palm of his hand.

“I’m concerned about my best agent slipping, Scott.” He spoke with the kind concern of a worried parent. Scott wouldn’t admit it out loud, but his voice sent shivers up his spine. “Now, you’re going to convince me that my concerns are baseless. Am I clear?”

Scott exhaled slowly, like he needed to buy himself time before answering, but he refused to look away from the Alpha’s pointed stare. “Yes, sir.”

Peter smiled with too many teeth.

Scott didn’t move an inch as his boss pulled apart the package he’d retrieved to reveal a USB no bigger than a nail, nor did he throughout the duration of Peter’s investigation. Though he caught glimpses of words on Peter’s screen, Scott had long learned that curiosity wasn’t worth the payoff, at least, not when Haletech was involved. Whatever Peter found seemed to meet his satisfaction.

“This is everything you’re going to need.” Peter said, and handed over an encrypted drive. “You have 24 hours… And Scott? Don’t be late again.”

Scott nodded and made his escape, leaning against the closed door of Peter’s office to catch his breath. His boss could bring him up with just a single word of praise and still leave him trembling in terror like he was a child again. Following orders had never been an issue, he was Peter’s creation and when he played his role, he was rewarded. It was only recently that the faint hint of resistance warred with the rest of him, a small spark of defiance that Peter had thought he’d exterminated years ago. Scott _wanted_ to be good, he wanted to be the best and win Peter’s approval, but suddenly there were other things he wanted. Things he’d never been allowed to have.

He shook off the confusion, hand tightening around the USB. There was a mission and a ticking clock, he was getting distracted.

“Did it go well?” Theo said from where he leaned against the wall and Scott narrowed his eyes at the other man.

“What do you think? You actually went tattling to Peter about me because I’ve been working my cover? How about you start worrying about your own missions before you get in my business.”

“Scott, wait.” Theo put a hand on the other man’s arm and forced him to a stop. “I’m just worried about you, okay? It’s because we’re supposed to be friends, we’ve been friends since we were kids. I’ve never seen you lose yourself so far in your cover, I barely even see you around anymore, even on your down time. It’s like you’re starting to think it’s real.”

Scott sighed, the edge of tension easing from his stance. “I appreciate it, but I’ve got this. I’m okay.” They had spent a lifetime competing with each other, Peter liked to think it kept the both of them sharp, but they were also as close to friends as one could get in this profession. Maybe it was jealousy, maybe Theo really did care. He gave the other man a smile, clasping him on the shoulder before stepping away. “I’ve got to get ready to head out. I’m working tonight.”

He could feel Theo’s eyes like a weight on his back, tracking him until he turned a corner.

“Loophole, dude? How’re we supposed to get in? There gonna take one look at me, and decide I’m not sequins-y or sparkly enough or they’ll know I can’t afford their beer.” Stiles said suspiciously, but he shamelessly admired the way Scott looked in that fancy black shirt of his. Scott had fancy black clubbing shirts. Stiles quietly promised he would ruin all of them.

“That’s why we’re gonna pregame here!” Scott laughed, and wiggled his butt. Stiles cursed under his breath, and Scott was supremely pleased with himself. His cover functioned as an alibi, as a possible motive. He wouldn’t need more than an hour to complete his objective, and when he was done, Stiles was going to be there to dance the night away with him, if he didn’t fall asleep in the club toilet again.

It was a simple assignment. The target was Matt Daehler, an investigative reporter who had been threatening to make waves ever since he graduated from college, but was only now getting the chance to make good on his threats. The researchers at Haletech had been able to find more information than his current employers had, and unearthed an impressive history of cyber crime. The usual suspects were poking around his history as well, but Haletech outmaneuvered federal organizations on a daily basis. His cousin had ties to the management of Loophole _,_ and strong evidence showed that Daehler had been laying low with her. Scott had to make sure Daehler got from Point A to Point B in one piece. His dossier mentioned the potential of an unknown factor, but so did every other mission he’d ever been on.

Stiles was intent on making sure they didn’t even get to Point A. His hands snaked around Scott from behind, slotting into place so he could enjoy the full swell of his boyfriend’s butt. “I didn’t know you liked fancy.”

“Are you kidding?” Scott feigned outrage and pressed back against his boyfriend’s body. “I love fancy. I’m like, the fanciest!”

“Super fancy, yeaaah.” Stiles drawled, groping for a shot glass full of cheap vodka and brought it to Scott’s mouth, nudging him to drink. Scott swallowed and breathed out in a ragged huff, face twisted in disgust.

“Uuurgh, that’s awful. Oh god, it’s like drinking paint thinner.” He laughed, twisting in the other man’s arm and dropping a boozy kiss on Stiles’s lips. “Come on, it’s going to be fun. I’ve heard Loophole is awesome and we haven’t been out in ever.”

“That’s because we’re broke and you have to actually wear pants once we leave the apartment. Are you sure you don’t want to stay in tonight? No pants!”

Scott smoothed his fingers through Stiles’s hair and straightened the collar of his shirt. “Let me take you on a real date, dude. I promise you’ll have fun and I’ll get to show you off a little bit. Everyone’s gonna be super jealous of my hot guy.”

“Pffffft.”

“Besides, I’ll just charge it all to my Dad.”

Even though Stiles had never met Scott’s father, he didn’t have a high opinion of the man. He was rich, that much had always been clear, but distant and even if Scott never said as much, he always got the impression that things were strained. Why else would he live in a shoebox apartment even smaller than Stiles’s own with a shitty second hand motorcycle instead of some fancy penthouse with a Mercedes? He was too humble, Stiles knew that if he ever had a father willing to spend money like this, he’d have been an insufferable, entitled asshole. Okay, more of an insufferable entitled asshole.

“If old man McCall is picking up the bill, then I say we go get our hands on the fancy stuff!”

“Like my butt?” Scott asked with too much earnestness, draping himself all over his boyfriend. Stiles _gasped,_ and Scott knew he was doomed. Before they left the house, he had to change his fancy shirt again. It was completely worth it.

They were a little too giggly to be safely riding a motorbike, but Scott had been drinking less than Stiles thought, despite Stiles’s best efforts. It was ridiculously cute, how huffy he got over _over-priced house beer, Scott, they’re gonna rob us blind_ _._ If Stiles drank any more, he might actually go blind, but for tonight, Scott wanted the other boy to be able to let go. That way, he wouldn’t notice when Scott slipped away. The spy fully intended to be back way before his cover could sober up.

Loophole was already thrumming with life when they walked in. Stiles only made a face once when he heard how much they had to pay to get in, but the moment they stepped into the smoky darkness, he started grinding up against Scott, swaying out of tune like he was trying to battle the beat instead of match it.

Scott already had a rough idea of which room his target occupied in the offices upstairs, but Stiles banged his hip on a table long before they could make it to the dance floor and he just had to make sure he wasn’t going to hurt himself too much.

“Maybe this place doesn’t suck!” Stiles yelled over the music, his fingers slipping into Scott’s belt loops to tug him forward.

Scott cupped the back of Stiles’ head, drawing him in so he could laugh against his mouth. He had never been more motivated to close a mission. Definitely, definitely couldn’t leave this one alone. “Dude, you’re gong to break something!”

“Come on, Scotty. I thought you were here to have a good time!”

Scott wished he could. There were a lot of things he wished and for a few minutes, it could all be real. The music pulsed like a heartbeat, bending him to its rhythms as he dragged his boyfriend close. Everyone pressed in around him, heat and bodies closing in as he let himself forget, just for a minute, that it was a lie. They moved like sex, never as impressive as anyone else, but with enough enthusiasm and laughter to make up for it all. It was easy to move in sync, slipping into mirrored movements without thought as Scott kissed him, long and filthy on the dance floor. Stiles’s hips fit perfectly against his and swayed with a dizzying, distracting need as the base dropped and the whole club cheered.

Sweat beaded across his skin, slipping in a long line down his back as they danced like nothing else mattered. The chance of something happening tonight was small. Matt Daehler was a small fish in the game they played, this was more a babysitting assignment than anything. He could slip away to check up on the wayward reporter and make it back before anyone noticed. If Stiles wasn’t too tired by the time they got back home tonight, then he fully intended to take advantage of all this unresolved electricity.

He licked the salty sweat from Stiles’s neck, letting the other man’s hands roam down his ass. Maybe they wouldn’t even make it home. The club’s bathrooms were close enough to take the edge off. Someone knocked into them as he headed through the crowd and Scott froze, squinting at the man through the drifting smoke and strobe lights. The man was gone in an instant and swallowed in the crowd, but Scott couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling. It was the same flash of dirty blonde hair, but Theo couldn’t have possibly been there. There was no way that his colleague knew anything about this mission. Peter had said it was his! Unless Theo had followed him here to mess things up for him or worse had been sent by Peter to keep an eye on him?

It probably wasn’t him, the light was playing tricks on his eyes, but Scott leaned in close to shout in Stiles’s ear. “Go grab us a couple of drinks, I’ve gotta pee. Be right back.” He pressed a sweaty $50 into his best friend’s hands and slipped off to track his prey.

He heard Stiles’s protest somewhere behind him, but he was already heading deeper into the club, chasing the stranger. He moved through the crowds quickly, slipping between the bodies with practiced ease, but Scott lost him in their midst. He cursed quickly, mind racing as he spared a glance towards the general direction of the bar, where the bartenders were already overworked and busy taming the crowds. It’d take Stiles a while to get back, and Scott was sure he could catch up with him. Daehler wouldn’t require too much of his time.

He sent another quick look around the room, trying to spot Theo or at least convince himself that it was all in his head. That was the last moment of uncertainty he allowed himself. Then he was making his way towards the back of the club, where a modified fire escape connected the main floor to the offices above. He kept his head down, keeping against the wall as he tapped a code into his phone that set off an electric pulse specifically designed to jam surveillance and communication equipment. It was the best Haletech could offer. The bouncer at the top of the stairs was easy to dispose of. A quick spray from the small hidden cylinder up his sleeve left the bouncer unconscious and Scott dragged the man to an adjacent storage closet. He closed the door behind him, making sure to jam the handle behind him.

Without warning, the lights in the club went off. Silence was quickly drowned out by the unanimous groan of unimpressed patrons. Then everything went to shit.

Only the crick of an uneven floor board saved him. Someone swung at Scott from behind, and he ducked reflexively, kicking out at his unseen attacker’s knees, earning a grunt for his trouble as they backed away. His thoughts raced to recreate his last memories of the hallway, and Scott unfixed a knot in his watch. Smooth metal stretched over from the band across his skin, covering the back of his palm and fingers while its mirror image unfurled from the silver bracelet Scott wore around his wrist. When they stopped, they covered his knuckles, ending in sharp edges like claws.

His opponent attacked again, but this time The Wolf was ready.

Scott had earned his nickname.

The awkward, uncoordinated man was gone. He moved with grace, years of training and a vicious instinct combined in a living weapon. Sure, he could use guns when he had to but there was something about getting close enough to feel the blood on his hands. The claws were more personal than any other weapon. There was very little in his life that was meant anything, everything was a mask and a lie. He wore lives like clothes, changing and discarding them whenever he was done. There was no one he could trust enough to connect with, people were all just part of the disguise to be used until they weren’t convenient anymore and thrown away. But that feeling when a man died in his hands was addictive, there was no greater moment of intimacy and for a brief moment, he felt real. Peter had always encouraged the need, he loved it when Scott became the beast. Scott would have hated himself for it if he wasn’t so desperate for the fix.

Scott snarled, lashing out as his claws caught in the edges of his enemy’s clothes, but the other man was quicker on his feet than he expected. Damnit it, he should have been here sooner. This wasn’t just some bouncer who’d wandered out of the club, this was the assassin he was supposed to be waiting for. He’d let himself get distracted downstairs, this was sloppy work.

A fist caught him in the jaw and Scott stumbled back, but caught himself before he lost balance. Without hesitating, he crouched low, aiming for his enemy’s midsection and bowling him over with a hard thud. The dim light caught along the metal claws as he slammed them down to cut through the man’s throat, but he twisted away moments before the strike and Scott’s blades dug deep into the wooden floor. The assassin took advantage of the near miss, sending the Wolf flying back with a rib-cracking kick to the chest.

He barely saw the outline of the gun before it fired and lunged for the assassin. Scott grabbed at his enemy’s wrist, trying to twist the weapon out of his hand as he slammed his body back against the other man. The shot was deafening so close and Scott staggered, ears ringing as he was momentarily disoriented.

Downstairs, someone screamed. It wasn’t long before an entire chorus of panic joined in, but his attacker remained undeterred. He was strong and infuriatingly well-trained, and Scott wold have preferred him dead. The Wolf’s claws dragged across his arm, making the other man jolt away with a curse and drop his gun to the floor. Scott couldn’t hear that or the footsteps rushing up the staircase, but when a door opened down the corridor and the outline of his target’s head poked out to great him, there was no way he could miss it.

“Get back inside,” he wheezed at Matt, just as the assassin sent a sharp jab at his throat. Scott narrowly missed being sliced open with the stranger’s knife. He parried the blow, dodging and ducking every attack with only the glimmer of steel in the shadows to guide him. It could have been a dance, a choreography built on push and pull and balanced with deadly precision, but Scott wasn’t looking for a draw. He came to win.

His opponent lurched forward, and Scott curled around him, knocking him off balance before bodily throwing him down the stairs. He slammed into the oncoming bouncers. Scott didn’t wait around to see who came out of that victorious. He took off running, chasing after Daehler, only to find his office empty. The window on the far end of the room was open. People were rushing out of Loophole, and in the distance were rapidly approaching police sirens. His target had a substantial lead, but he wasn’t Scott _._ The agent didn’t hesitate before giving chase, even when he remembered that he’d left his cover all alone.

Scott rolled through the window as another shot rang out behind him, the bullet hitting the window frame in a shower of wood splinters. “ _Shit_.” The spy hissed between his teeth, fire escape swaying as he took the stairs two at a time. Another shot struck the metal stairs above him and Scott ducked, dropping the last ten feet to the ground and rolling to his feet.

The assassin was a professional, no one else would have been able to go toe to toe with him, even in the dark. This was supposed to have been a standard body guarding mission, whoever Matt Daehler had pissed off, it was a lot bigger than anyone expected. He tore off down the alley, hunting his prey and ignoring the way his phone buzzed insistently in his pocket. No distractions now, it was frighteningly easy to shut the human part of himself down when he needed to.

Fortunately for him, Daehler was a coward and easy to find, hiding behind a dumpster a few alleys over. He shrieked when Scott yanked him up, slamming him back against the damp, greasy wall and lifting the reporter’s chin with razor tipped claws. “You’ve been very bad.” The Wolf mused, voice as empty as his eyes. “Whoever you pissed off spent a lot of money on a professional to take you out tonight. Good thing someone even richer wants you alive.”

“I-I don’t know anything!” Matt squeaked, tiny drops of blood pimpling where Scott gently pressed his claws into the man’s neck. “Please, I c-can pay. Just let me go, I’ll disappear.”

“You’ll disappear, but I think you and I need to have a little talk first. I’m curious to know exactly what you’re hiding.”

Matt’s scream was choked off before he could even draw breath.

Scott had to alter his route back to Haletech headquarters. Knowing there was an assassin on his trail changed everything, and his already winding route grew twice as many turns. By the time he reached his destination, he was in a black Ford, and Daehler was rousing. That didn’t matter. The interrogators got their hands on him soon enough. This mission was so much more than he expected. He took a direct interest in why a nobody like Daehler commanded so much attention, especially if Scott was going to continue working this mission. His assignment might have been completed, but this business was far from over. It was clear now what Peter meant by needing someone of The Wolf’s skill set. There was just one loose end to tie up.

“Where’s Raeken?” He’d asked.

All the coordinator could say was, “The Chimera’s last check in was four hours ago.”

It only got worse when he couldn’t contact Theo directly.

By the time he left their base, the city’s roar had quieted to a tamed purr. Daehler had given up everything. It hadn’t taken long until he’d given up the name of a coworker who’d thought to _cash in_ on Daehler’s findings. It was smart of the reporter to go underground, but the fact that there was more than one person involved didn’t bode well for Daehler’s survival. Scott was more than happy to let someone else deal with that mess.

He should have gone straight home, but Stiles had left fifteen voicemails and twice as many text messages on his phone. Victory felt so much more hollow now. He let himself into his boyfriend’s apartment, but in his mind, it was already _theirs._

At first, he thought Stiles had gone to bed. The apartment was dark and quiet, but the light of his boyfriend’s laptop was bright in their living him, illuminating the other man hunched on the couch. He’d changed out of his clubbing clothes, wearing his more comfortable sweatpants and an old t-shirt that might have belonged to Scott once upon a time. It was hard to remember, they swapped things back and forth too often to keep track. He’d heard the jingle of keys and the door close, Scott could tell by the way Stiles’s shoulders tightened, but the other man didn’t even look up.

“I’m sorry.” There wasn’t any good explanation, even as Scott already started spinning the lie. No matter what the excuse, it would be ugly. Guilt was something he thought he’d lost years ago, but his old friend settled heavily in Scott’s stomach as he dropped the keys on the counter.

“I thought something happened to you.” Stiles’s voice was rough, eyes stubbornly fixed on his computer screen. “The lights went out and some guy starts shooting up the place and you were _gone_. You didn’t answer any of my calls, Scott. I thought you were dead.”

“I didn’t mean to make you worry, I screwed up. Everyone was panicking and I couldn’t find you, I’m sorry.” He shuffled over, standing awkwardly by the couch. He’d just watch a man be tortured for information for hours, but it was the angry hunch to Stiles’s shoulder that cut deep. The Wolf was a monster, but just being around Stiles made him feel human again, even when it hurt.

“You’re sorry?” Stiles exploded, throwing his laptop to the couch and struggling up to his feet to snarl in Scott’s face. He shoved the other man back, fists clenched like he wanted to punch Scott in the jaw. “You always fucking do this! You disappear and I think that you’re hurt or worse and I can’t fucking keep up. How hard would it have been to just answer me and let me know you’re okay? Or can’t you fucking bother enough for that?”

Scott could put Stiles on his back in a second with one hand tied behind his back, but he shied away from him now, shoulders crawling up to his ears like he could make himself small enough to disappear. “I’m sorry, I didn’t hear my phone. I freaked out I was just-”  

“You didn’t notice your phone going off a fricking billion times?! Are you deaf? Are you blind?! I thought you were hurt! I thought your were dead! I called the fucking police because I thought… I thought…”

Stiles never found the words. Scott cut him off with a hug, pulling the taller man closer and burying his face in his neck as he hugged him as tight as he could. Stiles inhaled sharply, and Scott felt it against his ribs, but nothing was more satisfying than feeling the programmer sag against him, with a tired sigh of relief. He returned the embrace, but slowly, and Scott reveled under the calming caress of Stiles’s fingers through his hair.

“I’m sorry,” he said, barely above a whisper. Stiles tensed, but only for a moment. “I didn’t know what to do. I panicked, and I tried to find you, and I messed up. I’m just really tired. I’m sorry.”

He heard Stiles curse against the side of his head, even as the other man nuzzled closer, dropping closed-mouthed kisses across his shoulder. Scott knew he should have been more careful. It terrified him to think that anything could happen to this boy. Scott only had himself to blame for his recklessness.

“You should be. Fucking asshole,” Stiles grumbled. “You’re the worst fucking thing in the world.”

“I know. I’m sorry,” Scott repeated, one last time, but Stiles cupped his cheek and coaxed him into a kiss. He let Stiles push him, let him take everything he wanted, opening for him so eagerly as Stiles took him apart. It was worth it as long as Stiles let him stay.

“I’m going to tie you to bed, and you’re going to take the day off tomorrow. Ditch everything. I’m gonna do that, too.”

“Okay,” Scott said, soothing his boyfriend’s grumbling as Stiles ran possessive hands up and down the length of his spine. “Okay, anything… I love you.”

The look on Stiles’ face made his heart swell in his chest, and the next time Stiles drew him in, it was so achingly gentle, Scott wanted to laugh. “I love you. I love you so much. Let’s just go to sleep.”

That was the best suggestion Scott heard all night. It was clear that Stiles wanted to fuss over him, undressing him slowly before bundling him into bed, and drowning him in a thousand blankets. Somehow, Stiles found him beneath them. He slipped into place in front of him, aggressively wiggling until Scott agreed to be his big spoon. It didn’t take much convincing. Haletech and all its responsibilities bled away as he kissed the moles on Stiles’s shoulder, even the one low on his nape that made him squirm the most. Especially that one. Stiles found his hand in the dark and laced their fingers together, in front of his belly.

“I don’t know what I’d do without you, Scott.” It sounded like a confession, like something heavier than one sentence could hold. It sent shivers down Scott’s spine and lit a fire deep in his chest, something that promised to keep him warm even on his worst days.

“You don’t have to worry about that.” Scott whispered. “I promise. I’m not going anywhere.”

Stiles huffed, but it was his wiggly huff, not the annoyed one. Scott liked that he knew how to tell them apart now, and when Stiles brought his hand to his lips to kiss his knuckles, Scott knew he was home. Falling asleep like this was easy. This was possibly the only way the Wolf could ever know peace. He wasn’t bothered when Stiles’s phone lit up, and he didn’t rouse when his boyfriend sneaked out of their bed and out of his apartment.

Stiles took the fire escape up two flights before making a call. His correspondent picked up on the first ring.

 _“I just landed. What’s wrong?_ ”

“I’ll tell you what’s fucking wrong. I’m gonna kill the asshole who set me up. No one told me _The Wolf_ was gonna be there. We lost the package.”

There was a tense silence on the other end of the line. “You’re in one piece?”

“Barely.” Stiles spat. “But whoever slacked on the intel won’t be. This whole night was a failure and if the Wolf is nosing around, we’ve got some real trouble.”

“Then we take him out.” The voice on the phone said calmly. “I want a debrief of what happened.”

Stiles peered down through the metal slats of of the fire escape towards his apartment, face pinched unhappily. “Tomorrow, I’ve got something to finish tonight.”

“Tomorrow.” The phone clicked off without another word and Stiles swung himself back down the stairs and through the apartment window. He tossed the phone on the table and scrubbed his hands through his hair. This was one hell of a close call, and someone was going to pay. Through the dim light, he could just make out his sleeping boyfriend's figure, features lost in the darkness but his breathing deep and easy. Stiles tucked himself against Scott, smiling as the other man sighed in his sleep and tightened his arm back around Stiles’s waist. Tomorrow could wait.

**Author's Note:**

> You can find Dans's awesome fics [here](http://nevertrustastilesthing.tumblr.com/)
> 
> You can read Rune's stuff [Here](http://fightingforthepack.tumblr.com/) and find her on tumblr at [ Runicscribbles](http://runicscribbles.tumblr.com)


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